Jacey Gretchen Gibbs
by Wicked R
Summary: In search for his daughter, Gibbs enlists Jack's help.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Jacey Gretchen Gibbs  
Disclaimers: I don't own any pirate/ship and I don't wish to.  
Genre: adventure/romance

Rating: PG-13.  
Summary: Joshamee is in dire need for Jack to do some honest pirating so that he then on turn could free his rebellious daughter with the money.

Set: some time after AWE.

Pairing: Jack/OC.

Gibbs looked after the young attractive lass, who had just shouted obscenities at him merely because of his former connection with Jack. Her hips and back side was nicely dancing from side to side as she climbed the stairs to her house angrily. The wench would've never spoken to a common drunken sailor like him otherwise, but the news that Jack was back in Tortuga traveled fast from whore to whore.

Joshamee Gibbs found out about it at the other side of the island the same night his old captain's newly stolen and claimed fourth rate ship of the line docked at the harbor. with its original name, HMS Alexander Brio still visible on the transom. Gibbs took a brief look at it while running to the Faithful Bride, as the most likely place he'd find Jack Sparrow. He had to admit, the full rigged warship was a good choice in a certain sense this time, nobody would've dared to steal it off Jack cause they would've been fearing the Royal Navy's retaliation.

"Ye recruitin?" In his big hassle to get there Gibbs bumped into the table Jack was sitting at. The pirate captain was going to be there for a while, possibly for the whole night, depending on how drunk he got, him maybe leaving wasn't the reason why Gibbs hurried to get to him.

Once he steadied the table, Jack looked the intruder over, then gave a lopsided nod, "jest taking what I can."

"Any chance ye need a first mate, quartermaster, boatswain, another crewmember maybe?" Gibbs tried, wincing, not sure how Jack'll take his presence. It was mostly his fault after all that his captain had lost the Pearl once again to Barbossa and since then, they haven't met.

Jack rose and patted him on the shoulder so hard that the older man staggered into the chair at the opposite side from Jack. "For some reason, not many would want to join Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Could tell ye the reason," Gibbs leaned close, as if he was telling his old captain a secret, "but me throat is too dry."

Jack rose a hand to indicate the waitress he wanted another bottle, but Gibbs was quicker, "lass! The rum I paid fe in advance last week! Here, now!"

The pirate captain didn't oppose to such delights, even if it was inconceivable that a drunkard like Gibbs would save up any money, let alone two bottles of rum!

"Ye should at least scrap the paint off that pride of the navy ye command, then I could maybe round ye up some volunteers." The shorter man suggested.

"Ye got a lil role reversal mix up in yer head, Joshamee. It'd be ye scrappin, and perhaps you rounding up too. In fact that latter'd be a responsibility of me first mate if I'm not mistaking," he patted the other on the shoulder.

"Aye," Gibbs agreed, ready to assume any position Jack put him in, as long as he was close enough to bargain with him, "if I'm recruiting in the near future, may I ask what is the nature of this venture of yers? Jest in case potential recruits ask."

"Hanyson."

"The land of darkness ye mean?" Gibbs jumped back a little, "the one enshrouded in perpetual darkness? Where no one ventures out of fear, but the people in the surrounding area know it to be populated, as they can hear human voices inside?"

"Aye, that one. Got business in there with a certain map indicating the way."

"Ye mind if I don't tell the crew our destination? They'll like it a lot better if we said we were going to pick up all we plundered previously from...where is it Jack ye hid it again? Ye know, my share and all, I'd like to know." Gibbs tried to edge the conversation towards the main aim of him daring to come inside slapping distance to his old captain. He asked about the gold, yet he wouldn't have been surprised if Jack would've lost it all since, or decided Gibbs' share should be taken off him in change for the Pearl, however irreplaceable the ship was.

"I've got the prospects of somethin much more better than good old shinies."

"It's shinies I need Jack this time though," Gibbs admitted, then leaned close as if someone could've been listening, "for the daughter," he whispered, "Jacey. Do ye remember me tellin ye about her?"

Jack pursed his lips in a quizzical manner, "ye sure ye can hold on to the money fe ribbons and pearls and not spend it on rum all the way to England?"

Gibbs shook his head, "somehow, I thought as well, that she'd stayed that six year old girl in pink who waved good bye to the HMS Dauntless and Miss Elizabeth, even though I did notice young Elizabeth growing up," he unfolded a piece of paper and shoved it under Jack's nose, "it's from Jacey's mother and I've not heard of her since the navy'd relieved me of military duty. They could never wash their name clean after that, so she says here. Jacey was wrongly accused and criminally convicted and as a good looking lass the punishment was she was to be sent to become a wife of a new colonist in Virginia. That's their fate if they're lucky enough, isn't it? Of late, I've been scared to use the services of any new wench here in Tortuga, ye know, just in case. Cause how would I recognize me Jacey?"

Jack nodded, slowly, several times, thoughtfully, "ye don't need the gold, ye need Captain Jack Sparrow!" He raised his cup and drank to his own health, "tell any recruit we're on the way to Virginia!" He stood, dusted his hat and walked off back to the ship, now sure that the business of more crewmembers will be taken care of.

Tbc


	2. A Matter Of Innocence

Chapter 2: A Matter Of Innocence

Jack waited till Gibbs eased the ribbons out his dreadlocks, then walked up and down on deck, surveying the state of his crew. Having just put them on, fresh out from one of the crates they were kept in down the hull, nobody has managed to make the navy uniforms dirty yet. So close to Jamestowne even Jack exchanged his flamboyant clothes to a blue coat with white facings, white breeches and stockings. He however ignored the scarf and the wig necessary for somebody who assumed the position of a commodore, but given the majesticity of the barely modified HMS Alexander Brio, Jack didn't doubt he could even pass for an admiral.

As soon as the ramp could go down in the harbor, Jack sauntered down onto the pier, wincing only a little, but not retreating as a huge waving hoard of people greeted and encircled him. Surely his ship was visible from a great distance with the bit of the James river the settlement was on having excellent visibility, but he didn't expect the whole town to come out to greet him. And before he knew it, he ended up with a basket of hams and smoked meats, handed to him by a young, not too tall lass with a cutely shaped nose that Gibbs scrutinized from the corner of his eyes from behind Jack's back.

The girl retreated a little more hurried than seemed necessary from the way of a seemingly self important man, rather wealthy if you could judge by his clothing.

"Nat Bacon, from the Jamestowne council," the man around Jack's age introduced himself and took the freedom to wrap an arm around Jack's back. "I hope our little welcome gift pleases you. Thank you for coming so soon. Since my letter, several other plantations have been raided by Indians. We were thinking of retaliation, but I'm afraid our farmers don't have the weapons and the slaves, as you know are lame in such matters. I'm thinking large scale raids to keep them away once and for all. We've got some of them captured, but they are not telling where their village is. Perhaps the royal navy's interrogation methods are more effective?"

"Even if the navy's weren't, our sponsor, the East India Trading Company's methods will surely do the trick," Jack assured him. It was a truth that could not be denied. He turned around to face the colonist and stretched his hand out confidently. The long sleeves of the uniform covered his marked arms better than his own clothes. "Commodore Jack Raiment, to your service," he said with his best Lancashire accent, or as much of it he could remember from the way his mother used to talk to him. He reciprocated the man's amiable gestures by locking arms with him himself as if they were best pals and accompanied him on their way towards some estate looking houses. He was cut off from the river and his crewmembers this way, but was more credible in his charade. Besides, he had to discuss matters privately, "to be honest we were told to aid efforts by Saint Eustatius to take it back from the Dutch, but haven't that island change hands a dozen times already just lately? Only after the trip to the Caribbean were we meant to see what we could do here on Jamestown Island, but since our aforementioned sponsor's business is more important than the a crown's that cannot check anything from such distance, I thought it was necessary to take a detour first. You've heard of Lord Cutler Beckett, chairman of the East India Trading Company? He wants me to give you all support you need in exchange for the woman he'd always fancied, a young one who was to come here by mistake to be a farmer's wife. Have you heard of a certain Jacey Gibbs by her maiden name?"

There were a few rumblings from the crowd and people who were still in earshot jumped back a little, so much so Jack felt necessary to check the position of his pistol, in case the upheaval was because of them figuring out they were in fact pirates.

Even Nat Bacon pulled his arm back, turned on his heels, then returned dragging a gruff looking man away from the others, "this is Farrel Granger, the man who married her. As a councilor I can assure you that she could be legitimately yours via a divorce by purchase, all in the interest of our town of course. Would Lord Beckett have twenty guineas for the purpose?"

Jack grinned widely. Having successfully conned half a dozen merchant ships on the way here into believing they were part of the navy before relieving them of part of their cargoes, he had no trouble producing two pouches, each containing the ten golden coins requested. Yet the particular smile was mainly about Gibbs, Jack anticipating the older man's sour look when he'll have to hand Jack over pretty much all that was left from his little share from recent booties, given the Pearl was lost under his watch, money he kept close to his heart and to his rum flask. "So where's this wife of yours?" Jack addressed the quickly divorced man.

"That I can't tell you, Sir," the ex husband stashed away the money pouches, "I have no more claim on her now, but then again, noone does. She's the devil's daughter. She rejects all responsibilities of a wife and after I tried force, she ran off. She could be found anywhere 40 miles down the bay and by the Atlantic, or upstream by Indian settlements. Nobody knows where she'll surface for her sloop's painted as blue as the waters, she can even change the shade of her sails depending on the weather."

"She's a pirate," Bacon shrugged apologetically.

Tbc


	3. Tribal Colors

Chapter 3: Tribal Colors

Jack dismounted from the horse he was given and landed on the balls of his feet. It was never the landing that was the problem, it was unmoving nature of the ground when he was trying to walk on it. So far, being on horseback had been similar to the motion of the sea, and having had a few drinks for each other's health with Bacon did help, not just as encouragement as the councilor intended before Jack was meant to take his shot at interrogating the Indian prisoners, but also because the alcohol kept the ground trying to run away from under his feet, just the way he was used to. They cornered a few trees that stopped him from even seeing any water around now, a sliding stone door became visible that led into a burrow.

Inside there, a prisoner was tightly chained to the wall. However, from his posture and the way he was looking away, he appeared to be perfectly at ease, as if he would've been indifferent to the fact his life was in danger.

When Bacon stepped forward, his hatred towards the Indian was evident. Him turning against the tribes without much reason was natural to him, it wasn't just to anger and challenge the governor who had advised against it. For him, Indians possessed less value, then a slave and if they didn't need the information from the prisoner about his tribe and their friend, Jacey Gibbs' whereabouts, he would've held his gun to the captured native's head, "hey, scut! Do you want something to drink?" He took a flask out from under his coat, pretended wanting to give the captive some of the contents, then took it away the last minute to drink himself, spitting it back out onto the ground in front of the Indian. "Here, lick it up," he then turned back towards Jack, "there's no point to talking to the gudgeon. Chief of his tribe he is, of those abominations of nature."

Not falling for Bacon's attempt of tricking him into believing he was going to be given water or even considering his visitors, the prisoner was staring out to the early morning stars through a small opening at the side that served as a ventilation hole. The dim light of the dusk washed the colors together on the headdress the red Indian chief still wore, and the smeared war paint, but even with the softened features the sitting prisoner looked tall and as proud as if he would've owned the land all around, which in fact he did.

Jack had no trouble recognizing him. It would've been difficult for him to forget the man who led you to the Isla Fortuna and the City of the Dead and taught you how to use the stars to navigate, even if his lips were now wrinkled from lack of water, his face worn and his once back hair had silver streaks through it.

Having had enough of the doings of Bacon, who'd proved he'd be ready to jump for Beckett if he wished him to, Jack had only been waiting for the right moment when they were out of sight from any guards or townfolk, like it was there inside the cell. He reached for Bacon's flask as if he would've wanted to taunt the Indian himself as start of his interrogations he was meant to conduct, but then he used it instead to insert it abruptly onto Bacon's face as sort of a new nose, which the receiver took with surprised eyes followed by a mute thud on the floor.

The sun set at that moment, but the near black eyes of the man in the dungeon turned warm in recognition. "Sir?" A slightly amused deep voice signified that the prisoner had interrupted his voluntary silence. He owed his life to the young Captain Jack, he was able to go back to his tribe, clear his name, so he was still addressing his once superior with the title he thought his yet again rescuer deserved.

"I heard ye became a chief, Tumen," Jack said while using his cutlass to get rid of the ties that held his once friend's shackles to the wall, "with yer navigational skills it's an outright pity."

"I heard you set your eyes on a single prize," Tumen returned, "pity for the wasted time when you have the abilities to make any ship go as fast as the Pearl."

"Do ye know a certain Jacey Gibbs?" Jack got to the chase.

"Watseka," Tumen nodded, "we called her Watseka, the beautiful one." Once on his feet, he held out his hand to Jack, "I want to thank you for wanting to help..."

Jack didn't hesitate shake the extended hand, but his sideways nod gave away that he wasn't feeling all that comfortable with accepting the other's gratitude. They were both pirates at one time, their common history included both positive things and wrongdoings. Nevertheless, he was happy Tumen still considered him a friend, after what he'd witnessed over the last years himself, he wouldn't have been surprised if any Indian was weary in the company of a white man, any white man. On the top of it, he had kidnapped Tumen himself once when they were a lot younger, made him go places he didn't want to. The Indian could've had no idea how Jack's personality developed over the years, that Beckett, rightly, accused him of being an Indian lover as well, not just a Negro's friend. Tumen also would've not known that Jack had spent a couple of years with an Indian woman by the Mississippi, where the rumrunners were headed and Ahawi had thought him of all the values and virtues of the Indians. "Just like old time then, ei?" He winked at the older man.

"...but I don't need rescuing." Tumen finished his sentence in the meantime, "at least not from you."

Jack contemplated for a moment whether those words were meant in a negative manner, he sometimes had trouble figuring out the exact meaning of what the Indian, originally from Yucatan, was saying in the past too and Tumen didn't seem to have spent much time practicing his English lately. He squinted and tried to peek out the small opening Tumen was staring out before, and noted it wasn't the stars as he'd expected, but the top of the trees the Indian could've found interesting. From experience, he knew how good Indians were at hiding, but with an already on the way attack he didn't have to strain his eyes too much.

The guards however, were caught by surprise. Somebody shouted at another to get reinforcements, but none of the self proclaimed Indian hunter colonists got very far. The Indians' war cries and triumphant hollers were getting closer and closer, so Jack finished cutting through Tumen's ties by freeing him of the rope that went round his body to keep him arms immobile. There were no alarm bells ringing in his head even when a large Indian barged in, brandishing a tomahawk in one hand. Tumen was the chief of the tribe, and the warrior would not harm somebody who was helping Tumen. Jack looked back from the corner of his eyes only, but thankfully that was enough for him to reach for cover, pulling close to his once friend. It was this way that the blow missed his head and he almost avoided it completely, bar for end of a shoulder and slipping down his back. He staggered, his uninjured arm dangling in mid air in between trying clutch his shoulder or leaning down for the cutlass he dropped from the blow. Ultimately, he didn't do either. The pain brought him to his knees. He was still hoping the pain'd subside and his hand could continue the movement towards his sword. The pirate looked to see the damage, much unable to concentrate on anything else, including imminent danger. Blood was pouring from the wound and while his nerve endings were sewered and numbed at the site of the injury, the pain coming from the surrounding areas made up for it. There wasn't much more he could do than give into it and hope that the silhouette leaning over him was Tumen and not his attacker and that the chief would stop any more harm occurring to him. His mouth opened drawing for what it could've been his last conscious effort to breathe and then he fell silent, blacking out.

The sound of celebrating Indians was heard as the warrior who attacked Jack raised his hand again to take hold of his victim's hair in preparation to scalp him alive...

tbc


	4. Allegiance

Chapter 4: Allegiance

Jack frantically tried to sit up, despite the stabbing pain cursing through his entire injured side and found that he couldn't move, what's more, breathing was difficult. He struggled again just to raise his head and could see that he was lying on his good side on hard dirt, his clothes still wet from his blood. Then weirdly, it was above him that there was grass, tightly squashed together with bark, rushes, reeds and hides, all arranged in a domed, round fashion. Although he'd spent quite a while in a wigwam before, in his current dizzied state it took him a while to realize he was in one.

"Don't move," said somebody kneeling next to some steaming pots, "I wanted to get the brews ready before I sat down to watch you," the owner of the voice jumped into his vision to calm the injured man so he didn't aggravate his condition by trying to raise himself on his elbow.

Jack lost the fight quickly, and he was pushed back, now the woman talking to him filling his vision almost completely.

"The colonists who were with you at the time are all dead, no need to look for them," his nurse uttered, turning her head away for a moment, just so she could reach for her ointments.

But Jack didn't hear her words. The vision in front of him was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen anywhere. The sides of her finely rounded face was shaped by her curly hair and every curvature of her body was exactly the perfect size to make her the ideal eye candy for any man. Her big, warm eyes were the most remarkable. It had nothing to do with color or shape however, the uniqueness was conferred by her calm, reassuring gaze built on her own optimistic outlook on life, belief in herself and an ultimate order of things. A dream that gave her no fear, nor any regrets, as far as her involvement in the happenings was concerned. They were as clear as the sea. In addition, she presented him with a small, daring smile curving at the corner of her lips.

It wasn't the confusion caused by the blood loss that stopped him from speaking, he had simply lost the ability for speech for a moment. His own heartbeat was all he could hear. Their faces were still very close as he was trying to sit up and she leaned over to stop him and it was this closeness that allowed her to be able to understand what he was muttering. "Darn, yer beautiful."

He didn't take his eyes off her, his gaze remained locked to her sea colored eyes. She was what the sea would've looked like if she was a woman, Calypso had no idea what was the right human form to take as far as he was concerned.

In response, her smile widened and her tongue came out for a little cocky moistening of her bottom lip. The smile now transformed into an amused little laugh, "I always had in mind to meet the infamous Jack Sparrow one day. One thing for sure, it's not what I've expected."

The pirate knitted his eyebrows, even forgetting to claim the right of his disregarded captaincy, "how do ye mean that luv?" The fact that she didn't seem to be enamored by his reputation like most women, just made him want her more. Half thoughts circulated crossing each other in his mind as he tried to formulate a comeback sentence. In his disarray he didn't notice her hands reaching out for him. He was too surprised to react when she pulled him into an embrace, let alone realize the reason behind it.

Her arms encircling him into a tight hold, she poured the contents of her medicine pot right over his injured shoulder.

Jack gasped. His environment blurred, his world became the hot pain starting in his shoulder and chest and which was as if it ran through him, right down to his toes and the top of his head. He was now barely aware even of the beautiful woman restraining him from twitching too much, yet the sudden clarity brought on by the wiping out of all his other thoughts and half thoughts made him able to come up with some kind of retort, "ge...ge...ne...rous, are we...hhh?" He needed to say something to her before he burned to pieces. His face buried in her hair he finally managed to get some air, her scent reaching his senses fully, then he pulled back a little as far as she let him and his eyes locked with hers once more in an open question as to why she was doing this to him, then he relaxed in her soft, yet strong arms, limp. He didn't mind what she was doing to him, that was his last conscious thought.

She let him lie back, smiling to herself again. She could already see her potion at work closing and cleaning the wound. Applying bandages and giving the pirate captain a sling, there also was an amount of satisfaction recognizable on her features. Jack Sparrow in a state of complete shock. If the stories her mother told her were true, that was a sight to behold.

"You're sweet," she whispered with a finishing caress to his disheveled dreadlocks.

Tbc


	5. Tantamount

Chapter 5: Tantamount

As purposefully as she was usually behaving, Jacey Gibbs strode back gracefully into the wigwam holding a pail of water and a pile of native American clothing. She knelt down next to him and listened out to his thankfully rather relaxed breathing. The patient was getting his rest and therefore there wasn't much else she could've been doing for him now. She reached out, wanting to check his bandages, whether they were tight enough on, even after the plentiful of movements Jack had initially done in his restless sleep. But the moment the tip of her fingers came into contact with his upper body the pirates' eyes flew open wide.

Suddenly appearing in front of his eyes like that, with him in the position to marvel at her because he wasn't paralyzed by pain, she looked even more beautiful. Her eyes were given a startling green shade, they could've been jade, but the effect could've also been caused by the light filtering through the holes in the moss one of the sides of the wigwam. The large almond shaped mirrors of her soul were influenced by the luminance just as much as the color of the sea was by the skies above. The comparison made him speechless for a moment. Was there more to this woman that met the eye? Something mystical perhaps? To do with her mother of course, a secret Gibbs could've not been aware of, otherwise he would've either told everyone tales about it, or, alternatively, back during his bosun days, he would've ran as far as possible from anything vaguely supernatural.

The young woman was on turn surprised to find herself blocked and latched onto the piercing, tempting darkness of his eyes under equally dark, thick eyelashes. A great secret was embedded in them, they were key to this man. What was he really like? A bit like a vulnerable little boy, or the dangerous pirate the navy thought him to be? How much of this, and how much the other? Perhaps talking to him would help shed light on some of that mystery, "how are you feeling?"

"Like a mummy," Jack grunted, pulling himself up into a sitting position by the wall and pointing to his whole upper body being covered in bandages, right up to his neck and under his waistline. Apart from his worn, not so white as it should be navy trousers, he couldn't see his other clothes anywhere, "but I'll be fine luv as soon as ye free me of these darn things," he tugged at the dressings, "I was assuming chief Tumen'd be using other means to hold on to a prisoner."

Jacey rewarded the nonsense he was speaking with a smile, "those'll be staying on for some weeks." She squintingly looked the bandages over and leaned to the side a little to inspect him from the back. She gave him another small smile when she was finished, "it's your lucky day. I do have free you of those so to speak, but only to change your bandages cause with that blood in them they'd stick to your wound if left this way. Then that'll be it. You should be careful everybody that counts knows which side you're on next time and you will be fine for a while. And hopefully of some use to me when I try to leave these shores once and for all." She was told Jack had a ship and going on board would've met meeting her father, but if she wanted to sail away she had no choice. Joshamee Gibbs will not recognize her anyway, she didn't even know if the old man knew at all he had a daughter.

"I was injured before. I know how it works. It'll heal by itself if you leave it alone," Jack tried to inch away as Jacey started to unravel him from under the linen and reached into his trousers without any hesitation so that she could take hold of the end bit of his bandages.

Jack gasped for air. For a moment he didn't know why, was it because his entire body was hurting or because his manhood was suddenly and mercilessly awakened by a tactless touch of a hand nearby, one intent only on not hurting him physically anymore than she had to, but seemingly completely unaware of her own movements' sensuality, effect and rhythm. He groaned in frustration and winced in embarrassment. Taking the air in and out slowly and focused, he was trying to make sure the bulge in his trousers didn't grow to an any bigger, clearly noticeable size. He sat without the support of the wall and leaned forward as the position could hide his manhood a bit more. However, the effort gave him a considerable bout of dizziness.

Jacey glanced up at his swaying head, "what's wrong?" And only just caught him before he toppled into the dirt with an open wound, "you don't wanna do that," she laid him carefully on his side in a way she could work on him regardless of whether his patient was conscious or not. She started by pouring water over a layer of dressing on his back to get the dry blood unstuck from it.

Jack tried to stop himself shaking as he whimpered in searing agony when her probing fingers neared his wound. There was silence for a moment till Jack managed to get himself together enough to ground out, "how noble of ye to try to help an officer of the British navy," but with the intense pain it came out more like a hiss and more sarcastic than he meant it, "given what the colonists said some officers done to you on the way here."

"Oh, please," Jacey scolded him still working intently on his back, "didn't I just tell you to be careful how you choose sides? What gave you the idea I didn't know you were a pirate?"

"My clothes, who colonists thought I was, who the Indians first thought I was..."

"Without clothes, every man is just a man," she reminded him that at the moment all he could show up were some tattered trousers and then as confirmation of the fact she tugged the very trousers lower again to have a better chance at securing his new bandages.

"Ouch!" He took the opportunity to finally yell out. He couldn't look like a crybaby when his wounds were attended to, but when Jacey smacked his bottom playfully to order him to stop moving he could transfer all his sorrows into that one sound, "easy, luv, ye don't have to blow the man now to help him."

"It should be thank you, mistress!" Jacey pulled the last strip of the bandage a little tighter than it was necessary before finishing up. After all this was the person she partially held responsible for her father never returning, for Joshamee Gibbs, an honest and pirate fearing man to turn into one of the most talked about legends to ever captain the ill-famed Pearl.

Jack turned towards her as much as he could manage to verify he was seeing right. He had to check what was the truth for himself, cause he could've sworn the color of her eyes must've been turning into the dark gray of the stormy waters when she spoke those feisty words. But such a manifestation he had seen before, it was a force of nature he could handle. Many wenches would feel the same about him at first, and don't they all come to eat from his hands afterwards? Thanking her! That'll be right! If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't be in the situation in the first place, not even near the mainland! But the lass had no idea he actually came for her and it should stay that way for just now. He took a broody, long breath before deciding to go for the charade, temporarily, "I should be thanking you. In fact, I will." He raised a hand in what looked like a request for a handshake, but grabbed her hips quickly instead, making her lose her balance and this way he could pull her down and over his own hips, flipping the surprised girl onto her back, right next to him on the ground. "But makes no sense pretending I have something more noble in mind. This is thanks," his eyes narrowed a little, sparkling mischievously as he moved to kiss her.

Weak as he was, sore if moving, she would've had no difficulties pulling away, slipping out his hands once she had recovered from her shock of being manhandled in such a manner. She never had much trouble defending herself from unwanted men's hands before. One little turn of the head and her mouth would've been out of reach for him, the aim of the kiss thwarted and planted on her hair instead. Yet she froze. Her thigh still high up on his in the direction she came tumbling down over him, she felt something hard against her, moving, pressing into her skin through his trousers. She remained marveled at the sensation she never felt before, of his penis swelling and stiffening in a manner she could experience it as if first hand. Cause it wasn't just a psychical manifestation, it was exciting to know she had such an effect on a man. It was sexually stimulating to feel that powerful as a woman. Jack was nothing more than a perfect stranger, yet in that aspect, it didn't matter. Even her breath remained stuck in her lungs for a moment, she jerked her head back a little only to look into his eyes for confirmation, could it really be a wrist sized penis' owner next to her? Her eyes conveyed curiosity, and more so, tension.

He took further advantage of her astonishment, even though he didn't exactly know why a well traveled and experienced woman would be surprised like that at a man's little forced advances.

Of a sudden his lips came closer, his tongue was wrestling hers and she did nothing, but buried her fingers into his abundant hair and kissed back, her eyelashes brushing against his face. He was away with the feeling for a moment, then suddenly like a flash of light that cracks though the night he felt weird. There was something wrong with this scenario. A freely given kiss was something to be cherished, cause in reality it was the only kind of kiss he'd take, but wasn't it a bit odd that she'd given in that easily? Joshamee'd not be happy about that, neither about the fact he was attacking his daughter. He started to hyperventilate slightly at the thought. He should have enough respect for his first mate and best friend not to corrupt his lass any more than she's apparently already been corrupted. Not so chuffed with himself for having a conscience, he pulled away and pretended the reason was pain, realizing in the meantime, that indeed he was still in pain.

Jacey pulled herself into a sitting position and leaned nonchalantly against the side of the wigwam, smirking at him provocatively, "that's all you're got? I was expecting more from the renowned Jack Sparrow."

"Captain, if you please," Jack growled back, still angry with himself for being sensible, but he tried to recompensate himself at least with a title. It was so hard not looking at those wet lips! He was supposed to be a pirate, damn it! The reputation's to suffer. A pirate would've never pulled back, would've taken any chance he got. Take what you can, give nothing back. But somehow the very saying both Gibbs and him regarded as their own motto made no sense given the circumstances. "More thanks will be in order darlin, don't ye fear, but now the order says rum! Fe the pain ye see, any makeshift doctor attending to any wound would know that."

Jacey blinked, shaken out from the pleasurable moment by that comment. She was reminded about rum. The reason her mother didn't used to tolerate her father about, the reason he left, and more so, the reason he was kicked out the navy and could never turn back to see them without the danger of being thrown to the gallows. "There's no rum around here, I made sure of that!" She said gruffly and before he could react in any way, she leaned over him and with a swift movement, she tugged his trousers off his bottom.

Jack opened his eyes wide, expectantly, but the wench just giggled at his overexcited look, "not so fast, little Jack. I'll be washing those trousers as well, just so you know." She threw a breechclout, leggings and some other items of Indian clothing she brought in earlier at him and with that, she disappeared out of his sight, leaving him with not just a pile a clothes, but a humiliated grimace and and a wince.

"Aye, Mistress Gibbs," he muttered, contemplating how her mother could've been like with Joshamee. No wonder he turned pirate.

Tbc


	6. Residuum

Chapter 6: Residuum

Jack had absolutely no intentions to go anywhere, or even move a finger. Lying by the entrance of the wigwam he shared with the other non native American present in the tribe, he simply watched the camp settle down for the night. If not for the crackling of woodsplint for basket making in the next wigwam and the soft talking of some elders by the fire, everything was indicating that most of the Indians seemed to have gone to retire for the night. But it wasn't just the tranquility of the time of the day, the place was generally so calm and peaceful it set even such a rebellious mind as Jack's at peace for a while. Time was staying still, just like in the doldrums, he could see the sky above and a seagull flew past at times. The difference was that in the doldrums you felt stuck, but pretending over the last couple of days that he couldn't walk yet was his own choice. Even if oftentimes he asked himself what he was doing there, he could still his mind with wanting to get to know Gibbs' daughter, find out the secret she was hiding before he took her onto his ship and endangered himself for her again. That he was intrigued by her, was the least to say. He watched her intently as she boiled water, made arrows, marched among the campfire, played with the children.

Her mood would change as the sun was moving on the horizon, she retreated to a secluded area, stormy, her eyes turning a gray shade, then made up never before heard stories for the children and told them calm and warm, her eyes shining turquoise. Even though they were not living in the society of an established white settlement and under the naked sky, she didn't belong here, the same as she didn't belong to a plantation or the distant shores of a long forgotten country. She was wild, just like the sea, as if floating, or torn and battered. Always changing, yet in reality it made no difference. She looked untamable, like the ocean waves.

Jack had a pretty good idea where she would belong to, but wasn't sure if she'd ever tried that way of life. Maybe he couldn't tame her either, but if he could harness that energy, that power she seemingly possessed, not even the sea could stay in their way. He wanted to experiment with the possibility at any case. What's more, that woman played with men and love and it was a game of who was winning and that fact didn't make her any less interesting for him.

"So," Jacey stood in the entranceway, intonating with a demeanor that signaled she was in a lighter mood this time, yet she was driven by some inner fire as ever, "do you think you can make it tomorrow back to the harbor on horseback?"

"I'm not sure what the colonists'd think when they find out I'm alive."

"They are not. You're staying in Indian clothing."

"Excuse me darlin, but isn't it just as bad, if not worse, when me, the presumably Indian, gets attacked for trying to commandeer a navy ship all by me onsies?"

Jacey rolled her eyes, "did I ask you to commit any act a violence? I'm going with you. I only asked if you'd be able to ride a horse."

Jack wrinkled his nose,"any way we could row downriver? The pain isn't there anymore, just a kind of nagging, but I'm sure it'll be back if you make me bounce up and down for the whole journey."

"Too bad," she shrugged, "I had an idea on how to have you reacquainted," she announced, with far much more energy than for it to have been a petty comment. She moved next to him, narrowed her eyes and slowly traveled one of her palms up on his legging, "those promised thanks of yours in order, before we get any further as this is the last night we can spend in privacy."

Jack watched her incredulously. She voiced no wish, it was a command, soft, but demanding,as if it was said by a goddess, who was used to being served. What was the secret here and who was supposed to be the victim? The fact that this young woman was Gibbs' daughter had gradually already faded in his mind. Who was she? He frowned. These Indians had it so easy with no trousers, just a clout between their legs. But this way he hardly had any time to contemplate before her hand reached its destination. Plebe, the average Jane, or goddess, Captain Jack Sparrow never had any problems satisfying women.

He kissed her, curious, gentle and still relaxed from a few days of lying watching the world go by. He bit her lower lip carefully and leaned back to see her reaction. Was she the tough and experienced woman she showed herself to be, or was it a mask?

She shook her head a little with a smile. "You look surprised."

"Perchance...some answers? Who are you for Lord Beckett to want you so badly?"

She gave a little laugh, not much more than an open smile, "not so fast. Did you tell me your mother's maiden name, the type of cargo in your hold, what other aliases you use or which whore's baby you fathered?"

"No, but I could..."

Jacey reached out with a finger and silenced his lips with it, cutting into his words, "shhh. Talking you have the chance anytime. No more excuses," she whispered into his ear.

Jack closed his eyes, breathing deeply. That voice of her sounded so strange, different from how he'd ever heard her talking. It was like how a witch would speak, melodic like a siren's song making you to act upon your deepest desires.

She brushed her lips and a little tip of a tongue across the very surface of his lips, quickly, seductively, expectantly and indeed, the momentary contact was enough for his penis to come to life immediately and make him discard the thought process.

"Your turn," she dared him on seductively, smiling, whispering both words slowly, as if she would've been savoring them too much to let them go, reinforcing an atmosphere of desire. She let her eyes drift seductively over his body.

"Jacey..." He didn't disappoint, murmuring her name in a deep, heat roughened voice that mirrored the exact desire the young woman was trying to bring forth in him. Yet there was something additional in his tone, mysterious, superior. It must've just been the breeze, she wasn't used to men's voices making her tremble.

Jack on turn, felt the appeal of a potent aura on him, if she would've indeed been a mermaid calling to him from the sea, he couldn't have been able to resist the urge and follow her to meet his watery grave. His lips reached out for her urgently, craving to devour her. Amongst kisses, he rolled her to the ground, so that he was on top and his wounds didn't hurt. Holding her tightly against him, he squeezed a hand in between them to massage the hills of her groin. Maybe he wanted to give her the pleasure just her closeness gave to him, but his ragged groan made it lucid that it was him who was clearly enjoying more.

Her hands found their leverage point on his scarred chest as she pushed him away from herself, "that's sweet, but your aim is failing precision," she slowly spread her thighs and pulled his fingers deeper in between the hills, supplying him with the appropriate speed, amount of pressure and fluidity she needed to feel good.

Jack obeyed without thinking. Serving to provide sexual pleasure for women wasn't alien to him, it was foremostly Tia Dalma's game. Welcomed in a warm embrace after roles have been negotiated to the joy of the amazingly young one to want to play domina, Jack found himself buried in between his healer's large breasts. The pirate found that he couldn't care less who controlled the situation. The idea that he should leave Gibbs' daughter alone sounded outright ridiculous at this moment, it was obvious she had some experience in the matter. How weird would it be for him not to embrace all adventures that came his way anyway?

By the time he could work out a conscious decision in amongst heated emotions and broken threads of thoughts Jacey had pushed him a little away again and was now concentrating on stroking the scars on his belly and side, old ones that were in view as opposed to the ones still hidden under some bandages.

She was looking at him with passion fogged eyes and Jack wondered how she got there so quickly. Her tongue followed her fingers, kissing and licking his belly.

His strong body tensed under her touch and he bit his lips, clear sign he's been handled the right way. She gave him her trademark smile, satisfied by the effect she was having on him. She moved to remove her dress, then described every detail of his scars and tattoos with her tongue anew. Too bad his Desiderata tattoo on his back was ruined by the new injury, he could imagine her cuddling him up from the back to treat that long tattoo the same way. Indulged in his own imagination and aided by the motions of her hips against him, he seeked out her mouth, his tongue touching her lips beseechingly.

Giving in to the plea for a kiss, she directed her attention towards his groin by moving the clout out the way and reaching out for his penis to take hold of it. It was then she breathed his name against his lips. She had to push him away again, draw back and look, seeing was believing. She blinked startled at the eight inches large member in front of her, like the main mast of a full rigged ship that would come first into view on any horizon. Long and thick, but she'd imagine not too sizable to hurt her when it was inside her. She gazed at the dulcet visual till he started to find the wait uncomfortable for that very phallus.

He pulled her towards and lowered her under himself. His tongue traveled into the deep abyss of her mouth while his cock was rubbing against her clitoris, making her ready for the venture inside. His hand wandered down and he slipped a couple of fingers into her slippery cunt in the knowledge that it needed widened a little before his rock hard member could fit into it.

Initiated in the intimate contact, she hardly cared she lost the controlling role that she felt safe with in bed. Despite his injuries, he gave the impression of being very strong, and that not necessarily physically. He was hot, wondrously masculine.

She raised her hips and leaned into his fingers, wanting them deeper inside her. But that gave her little satisfaction. Every pore of her body jerked up to a state of being fully alive, woken by her titillating need to have him inside her. Lost to raw lust, their kisses became more indulgent. Amongst it, Jacey grabbed his cock herself and guided it into herself without any other care than wanting to get filled by it.

Thrusting up, he listened to her breathing, the rhythm of his body aligned with it, used it as his guide automatically for his motions. Other than that, nothing existed, but the fullness of her pink lips, the curve of her hips, the wish to serve and satisfy this woman without question.

Tbc


	7. Close Hauled

Chapter 7: Close-hauled

"Awaken please."

A strong kick to his bottom woke Jack up with a jolt. Saying please and kicking at the same time, now that's how Jacey could be summarized, a woman of contradictions. "Wha?" He said, looking around groggily to find himself in the same place as he went to sleep, with his head on the seat of the rowing boat where he'd declared himself too tired to row after the early night exercise and the horse riding Jacey had put him through. He'd never liked to work the oars anyway, he got out of it as much as it was possible. "Wha is it?" Jack repeated, sat up and shook off the last vestiges of sleep in a matter of split moments. No wonder, cause he was in the same place, but the boat wasn't. Not in the narrow estuary, but right at Jamestown Settlement's harbor, strongly secured onto the peer, in the broad daylight of a glorious morning, next to several fishing boats just coming back from Chesapeake Bay.

"What you should say is yes, mistress," Jacey reminded him that he had already uttered those words once already in the sanctity of their wigwam and Jack could hear the smile in her voice at the memory. But then she shushed him before he could say anything as the apparently new officials of the town were marching down towards them at the strange sight. "Just don't fall into the water," Jacey whispered, "it'll waste your war colors and you'll get recognized."

"What a nice surprise," Granger jeered at her, "but in case you came back to me running scared from the other Indians after their latest assail on our innocent citizens, you can go back right away. You're no wife of mine. You've been sold to Lord Beckett, may God help him when trying to domesticate you. Not working, not pleasing a man, the only thing you could be good for is a pirate, but then again you can't swim, so..."

Jacey, however, completely ignored the unfortunate man who ended up having the destiny of having her as a wife, only if for a few months and if in name only. Instead, she headed towards an older, podgy, but rather jovial looking man. "I was taken here by this Indian with a peace offer that we're hoping the navy itself will enforce. They'll have to, Lord Beckett will have to make sure of it if he wants to take me as his wife. It'll be to the benefit of all, Sir Governor, to bring peace here."

"Am I to understand that you're not opposing to give yourself over to new Captain Joshamee Gilbert over there on the HMS Alexander Brio? For the sake of peace am I to believe?"

"Well, if somebody would've said earlier that I could be Lady Beckett and not Mrs. Workallday Granger, I would've come earlier. But let's just keep that as a secret among ourselves, shall we and let Lord Beckett think I'm doing this as a sacrifice for my second family, the Indians? This warrior from the tribe will accompany me to the HMS Brio and let their terms be known."

The governor nodded. Getting troublemaker Jacey out his town was the best that could happen. Possibly, there would be other advantages for him as well if she got what she wanted from Lord Beckett, but he wouldn't bet on it. Despite his flagship being blown to pieces by bloody pirates, or especially because of this, the chairman of the East India Trading company didn't have the reputation of giving in to the female kind, or any kind for that matter. No skin off his nose though, as long as Jacey was in another part of the world.

"You want to be Lady Beckett?" Jack glanced at her squint-eyed once they rowed out of hearing distance. His aching back was still stiff from the way he was sleeping, but he made an exception from giving up the hard work of pulling the oars to someone else, feeling an immediate urge to get away from the farmers and onto the open sea.

Jacey paused her oars for a moment and regarded him coldly, "I am Lady Beckett. What else do you think he wants me back for?"

Now it was Jack's turn to stop in his tracks. His moved his eyeballs from the left to the right and back without any other body parts in motion, then concluded that was a weird moment there. He pressed his lips together in an effort to stop himself from bursting out laughing. If that was true! He just bedded Beckett's wife without knowing about it! But wait a minute-Jacey's secret, was that it? Oh, dear Gibbs, now he should be the enemy, Beckett's father in law as it may be. He'll have to have some rum on that once on board and not forced to deny himself of that respectable drink. He imagined the sweet and hot sensation in his throat when the fluid from the bottle hit it till...he got hit in the head by a hefty knot on a rope sent from the HMS Brio so that they could climb aboard. A bit dizzy from both the effort of rowing in his still shaky condition and the blow to the side of his head, he only managed to go up after Jacey was already there, but that didn't stop him from trying to take charge right away. "All hands on deck, ye bilge rats! Hoist sail, raise jib and point into the wind!"

"Captain Gilbert?" Arthur questioned, one of the many at least vaguely tidy seaman Gibbs had recruited since he was told by Jack to do so, some of them had to look like officers of the navy after all. Arthur was rather confused by the newcomer on board giving orders, but whoever he was they had to keep appearances and he had to keep calling Gibbs by the name he took on after Jack's disappearance.

The acting captain of the ship immediately recognized his best friend and removed Jack's headdress so the others could see who they were dealing with as well. "Welcome back, captain," he squeezed Jack's shoulder in joy, making him yelp silently as it was too close to his wound. "We'd make sail captain, but we need a heading as to where to point that canvas."

Jack however, leaned close whispering, "and how about ye saying to me it's bad luck to have a woman on board? Don't ye see we have one here?"

"Split image of her mother, captain," Gibbs whispered back, "no, I don't mind that particular one."

"I might mind myself," Jack pulled on his own goatee, "I don't think she knows we know who she really is, but that's all right, cause we don't actually know who she is with all the new developments."

"What new developments?"

"Never mind, Joshamee, never mind. Seems like our new heading's England, right to the headquarters of East India and we've got some leverage we can invest into."

tbc


	8. Representative

Chapter 8: Representative

"Do ye have anything against me sleeping lately or something?" Jack lifted his head and looked at his visitor stepping into his cabin long after the decklamps were ordered to be put out. "I almost managed to get some rest."

"I got some bear root for you to chew, golden seal and some other potions with me. I thought you'd still like me to rub them into your wound."

Jack sat reluctantly. If not for those medicines, he would surely not be able to walk about without a bandage already, but the night was far from young and the long day has exhausted him. Besides, trusting this wench became more and more dangerous. "Why would Lady Beckett like to help a pirate? Careful ye won't be considered accomplice, or pirate yerself."

Jacey gave an ironic laugh, "that'd be the least of my problems." Then, seeing he looked like a jealous stripling watching the girl he fancied pass by an older and more wealthy man's gate, she understood she needed to explain herself a little if they were to continue where they left it. "I was fifteen when I was taken to his house to be married to him and I've not seen him once before."

Her conversation partner's demeanor changed in an instant, "did he hurt you?" He asked sharply. It kinda made sense for him now, her needing to control what happened in bed. He reached out to stroke her cheek.

"He wasn't home much," Jacey avoided a straight answer. There weren't many things that could faze her given the experience of her so far short, but eventful life, but this time she had to blink a few times fast to fight back the tears that would've otherwise spilled out.

"I'm truly sorry, luv," Jack understood the unspoken words nevertheless. He wondered if his association with Jacey through Gibbs had anything to do with Beckett's wishes to have her as his wife, he was twisted enough for such things. But then he had to let go of the idea. There was more, something Jacey kept secret and if she didn't want to tell there was hardly a chance he could get it out of her by force or any trick. However, intimacy could help such matters over time sometimes and there wasn't a better time to start. He reached up to gently stop her hand working the potions into his back and shoulders and waited with patience till she'd raise her head to see what he wanted with the gesture.

Indeed, she responded slowly, she had to make sure there were no tears shed for him to see. Unknown to her though, the candlelight was reflected too fuzzy in her moist eyes.

Jack didn't have any intentions of taking advantage of her emotions. He gazed at her tenderly, there was no pity, no hauteur, just a look of concern and love.

How she'd wanted for somebody to look at her like that. If only his feelings would've been real and not momentarily, she cautiously reprimanded herself for being idealistic for one moment. But however she looked at it, it wasn't her own strength making her comfortable, it was his hand over hers that made her feel stronger. Letting people comfort her, it was a new experience, and a good one, she had to admit that.

He turned his head and gently kissed her hand still resting on his shoulder, then pulled it down to his chest, on his heart while he made his promise, "I can assure you darlin, I can make him pay for it if we work together."

There was a corruptive little smile on her face when she answered, "I wouldn't ask any less from you Jack Sparrow."

"How about anything more?" His long fingers trailed to her arm, shoulders and breast, caressing all round, every inch, spreading a path of heat across her body.

Jacey gasped, more from the realization of what she felt, than the actual sensation of what he was doing to her. She was shivering, just like before, and inside the captain's quarters she couldn't blame it on the wind.

He didn't let her catch her breath though, his ministrations reached her belly while the wet tip of his rough tongue slipped between her lips and caressed hers.

Jacey couldn't help herself thinking and imagining that tongue working on her body somewhere else. The taste of rum, it wasn't that bad on his lips was it? She relaxed into the kiss, leaned her body onto his, her nipples prickling his chest when she sat over to his lap. With something hard nudging in between her thighs, she slid her hands over the hard planes of his chest and closed her eyes. They were in a haze, she had no control over the warm fuzz of fireworks going off in her head and heart. She sighed, giving in to the sensation and wrapped her arms around him, then realized, the only thing dividing her from heaven was her own clothes.

Had she resisted, remained hesitant in any way, Jack would've released her, pushed her away himself. He was no Cutler Beckett, now way he'd do anything that'd equate him with the ruthless chairman. But with no resistance from her, he melted into the embrace the same way, forgetting where they were and who they were. He wove his fingers into her hair and didn't mind when they got stuck, it seemed to have somehow symbolized their alliance.

She lifted her hips for a moment so that she could raise her buckskin dress enough for his rubbing hands to reach under to her smooth, hot skin. What she didn't expect was the way he went to bed, under the covers he had nothing on, something she had no knowledge of so far under the veil of darkness. She shuddered and writhed as instead of the expected hands it was his half erect penis stroking her mons. It slipped inside her wet opening for moments, hardening more every time. She bucked at the sensation and he felt he had to hold onto her so she didn't fall back. Although she nearly came from the sensation itself, no chance she'd let go of him though. Jacey felt as if he was made to fit there.

Jack delivered a soft kiss to her forehead while pulling her back to himself so that he could ease himself into her the rest of the way.

Jacey cried out and...

"Let go of her Jack, right now!" Gibbs yelled, his voice sounding like thunder in the quiet of the night. He had kicked the door in and was moving closer in the meantime.

Jack looked at Gibbs' cocked pistol, pointed at his head from the side and kind of got the impression the old man wasn't joking, taking his daughter's purity very seriously. On turn, he should take the threat seriously as well, a panicking father was not to be messed with and would beat his brains out, even if said father had no idea how far from innocent her daughter was in every way. Jack's mind worked fast as usual, but his body refused to follow the order. It was overly caught up in enjoying hers. His eyes opened wide as instead of breaking away, her inner walls tightened around him and Jacey thrust her hips into him one more time before stepping off him with a long sigh.

It was too late though. Gibbs took the time lapse before the action as him not taking notice of him, turned the pistol in his hand and used it as a club, ploughing it into the side of Jack's head. A hefty blow it was, and although Gibbs winced at the last moment for hurting his best friend and his wrist became hesitant, the swing had enough force left in it to turn him off the chair and make him crumple to the ground the exact moment Jacey stood up and let her dress fall into place.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She protested.

"You'd better stay away from pirates," Gibbs looked up and into her wide eyes. "They're all vile and debauched creatures, the lot of them," he tried to convince himself he was doing the right thing. Surely unspeakable things happened to Jacey on the way here and on land, Jack was not going to repeat that after they've rescued her if he could help it.

"Aren't you a pirate?" Jacey raised her eyebrows, arrogance and hurt evident in her voice.

"I wasn't always one. You must know who I am," Gibbs tried to desperately build a bridge with a daughter he hasn't seen for over fifteen years.

Jacey rolled her eyes, "I don't need your protection, dad. I've seen what it's worth. Besides, it's not your protection we missed with mum, it was your love." She frowned scornfully and without glancing at Jack, she left to leave his father deal with the consequences of whatever he'd done.

Oblivious to the conversation, Jack was trying to decide what gave him more discomfort, his throbbing head or his aching cock. He moved a hand up to check his head, but even the little movement sent a wave of nausea though him and the pain accentuated, encompassing half of his head. Nothing he had not encountered before. He blew the air out and continued to cautiously probe with his fingers. There was a huge bump just above his ear, impressive, since the spot was usually covered by a lot of hair and his bandana. But wait a minute. This pretending to be a navy officer was seriously affecting his health. He grunted in his displeasure with the circumstances and looked at his fingers to see if there was blood on them only to discover that his vision was too blurry to see that much in the almost darkness. However, he figured he didn't need to use his eyes to understand that blood was covering his fingers, it was enough to feel the wetness on them and what's more, something warm dripping off them. Peculiar, he thought. He could've sworn that all his blood had taken residence in his swollen and aching cock. Right now, he wanted to cum, and that above all else.

"Are you all right, captain?" A silent, embarrassed and worried voice asked.

Jack looked up disoriented, "Huh? Gibbs? Uh, aye, me thinks so," he answered. Not as if it didn't happen quite often that somebody knocked him in the head. He racked his hurting head to count up how many times, but given up. There were too many. With some effort, he focused his eyes on the man talking to him. Sitting up he couldn't quite manage and he groaned for his efforts.

"Let me help you captain," Gibbs offered. He put a hand on Jack's thigh, trying to pacify him in advance before he became angry with his first mate. Besides, it wasn't like he'd do anything like Barbossa.

"Now I'm yer captain?" He mumbled. "What about before, when you hit me? I don't want your help either, I just didn't get up because I realized how tired I felt. I'm going to sleep here so just go. A taste of the cat for what ye did will be tomorrow. How can ye do this to me?"

"Jack, I know I deserve it and it'd be the pirate rules, but aren't they guidelines? Besides, if you flog me on open sea someone might see it and realize we're no navy ship after all."

"Cunning, Joshamee, so crafty, aren't ye? Should I understand ye prefer the hanging, navy way? Ow..." He finally sat up to look into his eyes, still holding his pounding head.

Gibbs winced as if it was his head that was hurting, "I'm real sorry Jack. I didn't intend to make it that hard. Wait, you're going to be all right!" He jumped up and disappeared.

Jack cursed. Just because he said he didn't need any help, it didn't mean he wanted to make it back to his bed all by himself. He slid onto his knees and climbed up using his arms to hang on.

Still mumbling apology after apology, Gibbs ran back with a bottle of rum, but instead of offering him a drink he held it up to Jack's head instead, making him duck out the way and end up on the floor again.

"Oh, no, no, Jack, just take it, put it to the wound, it'll help, I kept it in cold water to cool it down before I drank it."

"It was supposed to be a secret we knew who she was, remember? I prefer ye loaded to the gunwalls to this," Jack snatched the bottle from Gibbs' hand, "now get out of here!" He pointed to the door, "leave me alone and with yer family too! When can a commanding seafarer get a decent good night sleep around here, hum?" He held the cold bottle to his throbbing head when the door shut and cursed some more, this time, a bit more indifferent, than before. "Ye errant bumpkin," he said quietly, shaking his head. Drinking should've been his next priority after cooling his head a little, but his still aching penis needed something that shrank it into submission. He soon found, the bottle was useless. Touching his hard on, it only reminded him of her cold and smooth fingers on their night together by the windy entrance of the wigwam. He sighed, it hurt and he could only watch dispassionately till his penis conked down. It was a very slow and agonizing process and all that did as well was making the sensation of fullness in his balls worse. Finally now he could maybe utilize the bottle in helping him go to sleep. He emptied half of it and could feel almost immediately as his tiredness came back and grew more pressing than before.

The next moment, the air was full of gunfire.

Tbc


	9. Amuck

Chapter 9: Amuck

Among startled cries of not so long ago recruited crewmembers, another jolt shook the ship and Jack fell face down again right after he managed to get himself off the floor.

"Captain! We're under attack!" Gibbs busted in once more. They could hear the pounding of feet as every man rushed out to see what had happened, accompanied by some serious cursing.

Jack glared at him as seriously as he could from his current position. But he was already starting to feel sorry for his friend, he must've been feeling very apologetic if acting so silly and stating the obvious without a proper drink, "ye think I lost my hearing after ye hit me?"

"I was just trying to see if yer in any condition..."

Jack's eyes glinted in annoyance and he shook his head dismissingly. There were more important matters than his head. "Tell me something I don't know. By who?"

"By the Nuesta Senora de la Santisima Trinidad," Gibbs declared just as Jack made another attempt to stand on his feet.

"You mean...??" Of course the mention of the biggest warship in the world with its famed four decks and 140 guns made Jack stumble back. He didn't expect an exact account of the ship's name in the darkness and at such proximity for it to be discovered.

"May I remind you we are flying the British flag? They have signaled us to surrender. Orders, captain?"

That made sense now. Ships usually surrendered just at the sight of such an impressive first rate ship of the line, that's why it came so close to show its colors. With the Pearl he could've made an attempt to flee in hope the Spanish would not bother too much with a pirate ship, but in the middle of the Anglo-Spanish war aboard a British navy vessel he had no choice, but to consider what the attacker wanted and offered, before coming up with another plan.

"Help me up! I'm getting properly tired of lying around on the floor." There was another gunshot, a little warning one the Spanish were sending, impatiently waiting for their answer.

Grateful for Jack forgiving him at least as much as asking him to help, Gibbs rushed to his aid. He maneuvered himself under Jack's healthy shoulder and wished for once he had less rum so that they didn't sway as much.

However, Jack let go of him and much more gracefully than he'd expected him to move, he headed outside.

"Are you all right?" Gibbs wanted to make sure. He still didn't dare to look his friend in the eyes.

Jack looked back over his shoulder with his eyebrows raised, as if Gibbs would've asked a question that made no sense under any circumstances, "sure as shooting," he lied, "I'm peachy. Let's go."

They made it onto the poop deck in time before another blast shook a ship and he took a look around at his pretend officers all gathered up together half dressed in navy uniforms, half wearing clothing signifying their original identity, from ribbon shirts to banyans and cloaks, with their wigs peeking out of pockets here and there in a rather unusual and obscene way. Thank God it was night.

"Sir!" Arthur saluted with the wrong hand, but it was the one available for him as the other was busy scratching his bottom. He was always the one mainly being able to mimic the vaguely proper behavior of a lieutenant.

"Everyone below!" Jack yelled, "man the guns! Blow them out the water!"

"Easier said, than done," Gibbs whispered into his ears, incredulous and fearful Jack was still not clear in his head.

"We're preparing the longboats on the other side," Jack let him know of the plan, "we're only feigning we're replying to the attack. Then we'll just watch a navy warship blow up into pieces, who needs it? Should be fun. So get down there and..." His words could no longer be heard cause of several holes being blown into the side of the ship and a couple of the men fell into the water.

"How many ships now?" Jack shouted up to the crow's nest when the noise died down a little. He was sure the Trinidad didn't fire.

"I have to report there are four Spanish warships and two galleons in sight. One aft, three to the port side, two to the starboard side."

"We're trapped..." Echoed amongst the crewmen.

Tbc


	10. Body Politic

Chapter 10: Body Politic

"Wait! There's more!" Came the voice from above from the crow's nest in the gloam of the dawning early daylight. "With British navy flags! Three warships coming in the distance at the bow! Lord Beckett's new flagship, the HMS Amaranthine. They have just signaled us to attack as they will assist once they get here!"

"Well, ye prating pantaloons. There's no reason to fret, from either side." Having assessed the situation, Jack looked down on and addressed his awkwardly dressed crew, using the momentary silence while the Spanish were still waiting, "scallywags, lads, this will be the day you'll always remember as the one you ended up with a British war hero medal under Captain Jack Sparrow's command. It's easily possible, ye see. All ye have to do is try to look as if ye were following their orders, get the hell out of dodge and get yourself fished out by one of those in the front. Just don't forget to tell them that yer clothes got ruined by the fight. A good target right next to us, prepare to fire! Hold it till my mark! Now signal the Trinidad for permission to board," then without an explanation as to what he was doing or waiting for that very permission, he swung himself over the railing to the imposing Spanish galleon. He landed right in front of the quite young looking admiral for his position.

That was the most Gibbs could see, and that was just because he was the closest. Hardly a minute passed before Jack reappeared and only his first mate could tell by the slight pale undertone cutting across his face for a moment that the situation he came back from wasn't without serious danger. But as if nothing had happened, Jack turned on his heel and dashed down the stairs to the main deck so everybody could hear his orders, "fire!"

Unable to suppress his pent up curiosity, Gibbs ran after him and shouted in his ears, panting at his side among the roaring sound of cannon fire, "what are we doing and what were ye doing?" Then waiting for him to speak, he had to quickly dodge round Jack as a volley of a cannon ball barely missed him when the Trinidad returned fire. He just about remembered to pull Jack down with him too at the last minute and they dived belly down onto the deck at their feet. But he eased his head up a little to look into Jack's eyes and urge him to respond.

"The treasure of Llangantis," was the only thing Jack said before shoving a little map case in his hand that he took out from one of his many coat pockets. "Bring her about!" Jack left him to shout further orders at his panicking crew. Pointing at different directions, he managed to make the pirates position the ship in a way their cannons could do the most damage to their enemies.

Gibbs stared at the object serving as clue in his hand, trying to make sense of the method in his captain's madness. Sailing even closer to the enemy was suicide, especially that two of the smaller warships moved as well, ready to cover and protect the Trinidad. Shells impacted solidly all around as he opened the case that had the East India Trading company's three way emblem on it, along with Cutler Beckett's initials in the corner. Jack must've nicked it off him somewhere along the line of their last personal encounter. But it was the contents that was of most interest to him. First, a coin rolled out. A British guinea from 1703, bearing the word Vigo, commemorative of the battle by the coast of Spain where the British attacked and destroyed the 1702 Spanish treasure fleet. The money was said to have been spewed out from the gold that the British didn't manage to take. Next to it, there was a set of tied together wooden sticks, looking like the corner of some old cartographic chart, at the bottom, the name who the map once belonged to, General Ruminahui of the Inca.

Gibbs gulped, momentarily forgetting the loudly ringing cannons tearing the wooden hull up like paper. The huge sum of worked gold and other treasures took shape in front of his mental eyes, supposedly hidden deep within the Llangantis mountains. He knew the story of Atahualpa well, who Pizarro had killed despite the 750 tons of gold that his general brought as ransom. Ruminahui then buried the treasure, never to tell anyone where. Or by the existence of the map, not quite. So that was what Jack had shown to the admiral. The Spanish have always regarded the money as theirs through Pizarro, especially after the treasure fleet has allegedly found the location and brought back some of it that disastrous year. Unfortunately, with the ships sunk, the maps were lost too. Unless, the British seized it and was now in the possession of the East India. Gibbs looked up at the burning main mast and went to find Jack once more. It still didn't make sense. If Jack offered to help the Spanish get their treasure, why were they firing at each other?

A crazy and unrealistic cheer went up all along their own lines by a feverish crew influenced by Jack's enthusiasm for the impossible as one of the sloop of wars that protected the Santisima Trinidad from their cannons exploded in a great ball of fire. Great, Gibbs mused, rolling his eyes, only five more to go, if they didn't count the approaching British vessels. With a big gaping hole where their own forecastle used to be, there wasn't much worth celebrating. "Captain?" He questioned.

"I made a deal with Admiral Legazpi. He might hit anything, but me, so keep close."

"An accord worth sacrificing some of his ships for?" Gibbs watched the black hulk of the sinking Spanish ship lurch up once more before crashing down into the waves.

"Absolutely. He'd give a lot more than that to..." Jack pulled his neck in as he was abruptly silenced by the renewed fusillade of cannon balls, aided with musket fire, wreaking havoc aboard. "Fire once more and then abandon ship!" Jack gave in to sense, half choking on the acrid smoke. They were noticeably sinking after all.

They fired blindly and the sound of the explosions resonated further away than expected. Gibbs looked back while taking the rope ladder into the longboat. Their cannon balls had no effect at first sight. At sea, cannon fire can pass through a ship, not making much damage on it, nothing you couldn't patch up with a few hours of work. Unless it was below the water line and made her fill up with water. Something that was hard to achieve, since your guns were higher up and even if not, the water posed such resistance the cannon balls didn't cause much damage. Not this time though. With their HMS Brio barely floating above the waterline, the angle of their projectiles was vastly different from the usual. The cannon balls flew through the remaining sloop protecting the Trinidad and reached the water right where the famous warship touched the water. With the chaos that broke out on the world's biggest warship as a result, they were either sinking, pulverized or at least severely disabled. Gibbs knew well that size and armory was Trinidad's greatest vulnerability as well as its strength. Once damaged at the bottom, it was much less likely that the floating material their ship was mainly made of will actually keep them afloat.

"Are you sure the accord is still worth their while?" Gibbs pointed towards the Spanish frantically working their pumps to slow down the process of the Trinidad being submerged in water.

"Toss oars, let fall, pull larboard only!" Jack gave his orders, which meant they were turning towards the HMS Amaranthine, "pick up the stroke!" And were heading towards her as well. "The admiral will be waiting out, Josh. Cause where a goat can't go, a pirate can go and where a pirate will go, there's treasure."

"You promised to get the other bit of the map from Beckett," Gibbs concluded.

"We're war heroes. Cutler'll trust me and treat me as such. He won't recognize me cause he'd not expect me to get rid of my dreadlocks and assets for any cost. Besides, I'm used to impersonating any person, people of any profession. Give me your wig."

"I need it," opposed Gibbs. Jack might be confident about his chameleon skills, but the older man certainly wasn't up for hanging of any sort.

"You're not coming," Jack declared, "if he sees us, he'll put two and two together. What I need is your dear daughter."

"She was going to the other longboat," Gibbs looked around to locate her.

"They didn't make it, Sir," Sebastian, one of the men working the oars next to him supplied, "must've went down with the ship."

tbc


	11. Compression

Chapter 11: Compression

Jack shoved the wig back into Gibbs hands and stood up at the back of the longboat, searching for signs of lost crewmembers. Amongst the remains of the battlefield, he wasn't sure which way was the right direction to look, burning driftwood was just that, it had no signs on it which ship it came from. Gods, he remembered hearing from the colonists earlier that Jacey couldn't even swim. Therefore, on natural instinct, he decided it was best and most effective if he was looking underwater instead. Besides, it was best not to be noticed. He took a lung full of air and dived below the surface, blind to any fear or risk. Coldly and expeditiously, he did what he had to do. He cornered underwater explosions, lost oars and muzzy water made my blood oozing out of fallen bodies. It wasn't light enough for him to be able to discern bodies. He was encircled by a whole shoal of brilliantly colored fish, seemingly confused by the chaos in their natural habitat. On top of it, his hair was in his eyes and the navy's captain's coat was too heavy. A quick movement caught his eyes and he turned his head towards it. For sure, there was a shape darting around in between the debris. With the blood's abundant smell in the water, it would've been a surprise if there was only one shark on the hunt nearby. However, escaping the sharks wasn't his most pressing urgency. His chest was sore, shadows were covering his vision, his throat was closing. The sense of drowning was familiar and since the Kraken he'd developed quite an aversion to it. He knew for certainly how little time he had left if he stayed underwater. Yet his chocking breath, his blinded eyes, it was the tears for Jacey, he was quite sure. Whether he found air or not, it somehow became unimportant, he squinted to see some more clearly. Could Jacey be smiling at him peeking up from right behind that sinking shipwreck?

Jack looked on with awe as she swam closer, she seemed to be radiating a silvery gold light, yet the fine jewelry she wore consisted of pearls, beach glass and corals. Where could she have got them from, he continued staring in her direction with childlike amazement, trying to take everything in.

Jacey hesitated, she didn't know what exactly his look meant. The few times she let anyone else know what she was, it was as if a raging storm separated her from them that she didn't know how to cross. She gave an apologetic half smile and searched for his unspoken answer in his bloodshot and straining eyes.

Jack watched as her colorful mermaid tail was swishing about seductively in a beguiling spectacle of inhuman grace and the illusion of an underwater dance. He didn't just watch her, but became lost in her eyes. He didn't notice the dimming of his surroundings around himself, the roaring sound in his ears, the weakness in his legs, a queasiness rising just before the blackout. He missed his chance for going up for air and it didn't even matter. Not to him.

Jacey reached out and pulled his floating hair away from his eyes. They were closed now, and she had to lift his head so that she could blow some air into his open mouth.

He immediately opened his eyes and she was thankful for his prompt reaction. Although she knew in theory that a mermaid's touch could make a human be able to survive underwater, she certainly had no experience in reviving one who had already lost consciousness. Besides, she was only half mermaid.

The gaze of Jack's wide eyes flew to her face and she watched him struggle with understanding what was going on and guiltily, she smiled to herself at the baffled look on his features.

Waking from enjoying the feeling of her hands on his skin, it took him quite a few moments to realize and most importantly believe that his throat was not constricted not to let the water into his lungs, that he wasn't holding his breath anymore and that his heart was walloping on a lot faster than he'd expected it to be, if any. Why wasn't he dead, or at least close to it? He looked down at his chest to see it moving up and down and only then did he contemplate the possibility of him actually having absolutely no trouble breathing underwater. It was as if he'd always been doing it. He opened his mouth, then closed it, greedily gulping for air, just to try out the experience of the water not choking him. It overwhelmed him. There surely was some of it in his stomach from his previous drowning experience, but now it was only his jitteriness about the novelty of the sensation that was the only bothersome issue. Next thing, he'll talk to fish. Well, half fish as the case may be. The sensation of someone holding his arm, steadying him in the water and helping him through the experience alerted him to the fact that he wasn't actually dreaming. Noone could dream up anything so beautiful as that. Cause while on land, Jacey was very pleasant for the eyes too look at, everybody knew that, but there was something out of place about her, a lack of harmony Jack couldn't quite put his finger on where it came from. But the shiny tail appeared to be the completion of what had been missing so far. The light that was reflecting back from the tail end made her look perfect, untouchable, natural, soft and to be worshippped. The sight paralyzed him once again.

Jacey wasn't sure what to make of his oneirism, "hey, you're feeling better, aren't you?" She asked, worried whether Jack'll able to come to grips and be comfortable with his new ability of being able to breathe underwater when they touched, and she was also apprehensive about how Jack'll react to her being a mermaid once he's able to think.

"Aye," Jack frowned in marvel, "me really underestimated ye, didn't I?" He paused again, considering how could it be that his nasal voice was resonating loudly in the water, yet sounded more slurried than usual. He'll have to practice. "And me believed when they said that ye can't even swim!"

"That was just so I could avoid getting wet. My tail would've appeared any time that part of me touched water," she explained apprehensively, avoiding his otherwise captivating brown eyes. "It had to be a secret you see. They were going to hate me otherwise, even the Indians," she added quietly, "they were going to be afraid of me."

"Or really love ye," Jack reached for and grabbed both her hands mesmerized and before he knew it, he felt himself leaning forward and kissing her full, inviting lips with a passion that focused exclusively on her. His tongue edged slowly forwards, making her pull him into a close embrace as she squirmed at the pleasure and joy caused by his unexpected reaction. Maybe everything wasn't lost, she contemplated as she kissed back, caressing his lips with her slippery, smooth tongue.

She tasted so different underwater, its exotic heat making her very distinguishable from the water and fish around her. Her silky hands were so good meeting his skin, they meant life in a way he'd never experienced before. Of course, he was kissing a mermaid! Once he realized what he was actually doing, the memory of his previous encounters with mermaids came back and they were not so pleasant as this one. He'd always been exempt from their beguiling influence though as his biggest dream was freedom and therefore they could not charm him with anything he would've really wanted. What had happened now that he so wants her? That needed some careful examination. He fought with himself, hissing while he willed to pull away, his weeks long concealed yearning and pent up arousal almost getting the best of him over the roguish fury and restraint in front of being manipulated by a creature like her. Holding her at arms' length, he examined her confused expression, finding nothing more than worry, sincerity and affection. None of which he'd ever seen on the faces of any of the merfolk he ever met. And he had to admit, she looked sexy, blinking embarassed like that, waiting his verdict on what she was. Jack however, had no idea what to make of her.

"So what now?" Jacey asked on the most insecure voice he ever heard her talk.

"Is Gibbs not yer father then?" Jack asked, frowning.

"He is. But he never knew my mother was a mermaid and that she'd given up all her previous life to move to land."

Jack opened his eyes wide, then snorted, a slow smile broke out on his face and he burst out laughing, pointing up to where he came from, "For Gibbs? That surly puttock!?"

Jacey shared his smile and shrugged, "it gets very boring underwater after over a hundred years."

A moment passed between the two and the mood lightened. With his angriness shoved into the background, his mind became aware of his horniness renewed. Half an hour of heaven, who would care? He grinned at her and leaned in so his mouth could follow his hands, already stroking her face. He'd always wanted to find out how it was to make love underwater.

Tbc


	12. Accolade

Chapter 12: Accolade

Lord Beckett sighed and rolled his eyes as he stepped to the next crewmember of the sunken HMS Alexander Brio. How many of these foot lickers could have survived? It was rather inconvenient he had to hand over a bronze cross pattee with the crown to each one of them, even if he didn't bother to attach it to their uniforms. However, it had to be done, it was military policy to reward those who sank an enemy ship and he could make no exceptions if the enemy in question was the prestigious Senora de la Santisima Trinidad herself. The last medal he especially grudged to hand over, if Commodore Raiment did anything else extraordinary, he'd have to promote him to the rank of admiral.

Even wet, the commodore looked so spotlessly impeccable in that navy uniform and wig, Beckett could never dream of such imposing stature. Painted on a portray in an emperor's pose or not, he'll always look too soft featured to be worshipped by women as Raiment must be and he knew it. This clean shaved, quiet and strongly footed Jack Raiment was the embodiment of what Becket would've wanted to be, not without the use of every evil trick he could think of, at least. Nevertheless, at the moment, the commodore was on his side, under his command, and he'll utilize that to his advantage.

Beckett gave a frown that lasted a few moments, something that was supposed to pass as a rewarding smile when he stepped to Commodore Jack Raiment with the medal, "for the most conspicuous bravery, a pre-eminent act of valor and extreme devotion in the presence of the enemy," Beckett clipped the decoration onto Jack's uniform. It he would've been in London and there was a ceremony, he should've said more, but here it would've only come out like bla bla anyway.

Jack took a big breath and saluted him, holding his chest out for the honor in the most serious manner. Without facial hair, or just about any hair as a matter of fact, he was a different person, but his usual bohemian, unfocused and all over the place demeanor could've given him away. How was it Norrington used to behave again? It had been so long ago he'd last been incognito and he had to concentrate hard to keep those hands safely behind his back in case they started flailing about aimlessly. Although who wanted to jump about joyously teetotal? Maybe that what was wrong with Beckett as well all along. No rum.

"May we have a word in private?" Beckett motioned him towards the railing, "are you sure Miss Jacey Gibbs has perished?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, it was known you cared deeply for her," Jack tried his best not to slur, nor lean too close to his adversary. But most of all, remembering and using his mother's Herefordshire accent that he found utmost difficult. "However, there's something else that might require your attention. We have found something on a Spanish body floating away, I believe it belongs to you, Sir," Jack handed him the very items he showed to Gibbs not so long ago, and to Admiral Legazpi a little before that. The very items he stole from Beckett himself during his short stay on the Endeavor.

"Where's the rest?" Beckett perked up, forgetting Jacey entirely. You could see his day was brightened well.

Safely slid under the wardrobe in my old nursery at my father's house deep inside Shipwreck Fortress, intact since Teague decided to move into a pub at the back of the Cove to bed the owner, Jack mentally traced the map's whereabouts. That crack in the floor was just as good of a hiding things place as it had been during Jack's early childhood. "The body came from the Trinidad."

Beckett's rare complacent smile disappeared immediately, "you sounded like you had good news commodore. And how do you suggest having my belongings at the bottom of the ocean as something to be rejoicing about?"

"I already tried to recuperate it for you, my lord," Jack nodded, standing upright and strong footed by imagining himself being a mast, "as you have seen me, I was coming up from under the water, after my crew had thought I had drowned. I can assure you Sir, I have been down to the shipwreck of Trinidad and it's barely in shallow waters. Any half good diver could reach it. I'd volunteer my services and my crew's, but look at that lot, they need their rest and a good bite of that pickled herring we saw your men with."

Beckett nodded and curved one side of his lips up as an acknowledgment smile, but something that under no circumstances could be considered anything else than a scowl. His mind was already elsewhere, "into the longboats! Every man that can swim!" He only waited a few moments till he set off to join his subordinates so he was able to supervise the operation from close by from a boat. He didn't trust anyone. That map proved too easy to disappear and it often did. Therefore, he had absolutely no objections to the Commodore and his men not going with them. Raiment reminded him of Norrington, and the former commodore used to be too much of an independent thinker. Not even looking back to the Amaranthine, he concentrated on the up popping heads, cursing every time the sailors needed to come up for air. "Well, lieutenant?" He stood up, balancing in the little vessel, impatient.

Keyes, his navigator was the one swimming towards him to answer, "there's absolutely no sign of the ship, or even a mast down there. Nobody's able to keep their breaths any longer."

"Keep at it," his superior said, not giving up.

Keyes grabbed hold of the side of the boat to steady himself before following orders and diving under again, but halted.

Beckett followed his gaze. In fact there was no sign of a ship, or even a mast on the horizon either. At all. The HMS Amaranthine was gone, commodore and all.

Tbc


	13. Canvass

Chapter 13: Canvass

Jack was standing on the poop deck in complete darkness, only half minding supervising the canvas being dropped. His attention and mind was drifting away aft, where oftentimes strange sightings were reported by whoever was by the helm. Some, who have met Tia Dalma, were convinced it was Calypso's hair streaming behind them, following them, others were talking of sea serpents, the Leviathan and the sirens coming up from Davy Jones' locker. Jack however, had enough of Jacey's hiding game. He ordered the anchor being dropped and everyone off the watch since they were slowly going nowhere, then holding on to a lantern astern, he climbed up the railing and let himself drop into the water.

What he didn't expect was to find the mermaid immediately. Jack shot down into the water next to her and by the time she registered what was happening in the darkness she hardly had time to jump out the way of the body sploshing down beside her. Startled and with her mouth open she could only watch as the man in his old pirate garb and with dark, apparently fastly growing hair, shining in the moonlight.

With a glaring expression, he moved towards her and grabbed her so that he could get the benefit from being able to breathe and talk underwater. "What kind of torture is this, attaching yerself to us like that?" He asked sharply, his patience running low. "Didn't ye say humans were weird and our last encounter was the last ye got yerself involved with them?" His eyes studied her slender silhouette floating there. Yet again, he wanted to act the offended, but found himself incapable to. It was the sight of her. Hips swaying from side to side as she was keeping herself in the same spot in the water, perfect curves in perfect places, full chest and her oneness with the sea. Not to mention sea creatures didn't favor or have any use for clothes. Who would've known he had that much in common with Davy Jones?

"I never said I thought they were a bad kind of weird," Jacey shot a quick glance up to the ship, "and I didn't know anybody noticed anything being amiss."

"Ye got any plans shadowing us, or is it some mere coincidence?"

"Plans? You mean apart from this?" She attacked him with kisses, pushing him against the hull of the Black Pearl. It was as if she was trying to devour the whole of him through his mouth. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling herself close, where she threw her head back and to the side a little to expose her neck. However, it took a sideways bite to his ear from her before the startled Jack realized what was expected from him. But when he got the hint he lowered his lips to her shoulder to return the bite, then lick, kiss and suck its site. And once they were fused together, lips to lips, body to body, there was no stop to the moans and giggles, returned just the same with not just equal wildness, but a passion that was threatening to spiral higher and out of control.

After freeing Jack of his heavy wet clothes and depositing them carelessly on the seabed, she rubbed some circles on his stomach and chest before pulling him on top of herself, causing them to get unbalanced and roll around slowly a few times, entangled in each other as neither of them gave any thought to making any movements to sustain themselves in the water. Descending to the seabed in between frustrated sighs and gasps of sweet need over the underwater current disturbing their play, Jacey resumed ravishing him with kisses. She didn't seem to want no gentle. No chance for that with the heat she felt in her crutch, her skin sensed his with a heightened and differentiating awareness, her clitoris pulsated with a need for touch and pressure. How characteristic of him to tease her now with only nibbling, when he could use his teeth instead!

Jack took a deep breath. He could exercise quite some control over himself right enough if it was about making the wenches lust after him. He planted a last feather light kiss below her ear and withdrew, vexing her, then gave his trademark cocky grin, his fingers slowly circling close to her opening, but not too close.

Jacey groaned with frustration, feeling an urge coming on to punish him for making her wait. "Jack, please!..." She pleaded while her tail uncontrollably moved to the side, stretched and slapped him hard in the side.

Jack hissed, but didn't hasten his movements. His tongue traced her collarbone, his hand her side, patiently working on making her reach breaking point.

Her hips pushed up fiercely, willing, knowing exactly by themselves where to find that phallus. She was unable even to think of punishments now, there was only one impulse driving her, to turn those fleeting caresses of his into something more satisfying. She screamed as if in physical pain from the hunger and desperately pressed against him and wrapped her tail around them to lock him prisoner.

Yet Jack was still teasing, not taking a hint where most wouldn't have dared to disobey a self proclaimed half goddess's wishes. He looked down at her, enjoying the effect he was having on her, then began to push very slowly inside her, "it's all of ye I wanted darlin fe ye to give over to me. And not jest as and when ye fancy, missy." By the absence of movement and the seriousness of his expression, he wanted an answer before anything else'd happen.

Jacey writhed in frustration, her body straining towards him. But she had to give the pleasures up for the moment. She lifted her eyes up to his, winced and looked away in embarrassment, "there was a time not so long ago when I didn't know which part of me to chose. But I'm a mermaid Jack and this is where I belong. I'll not become human for a sailor who'll leave me on land."

"Me crew'd not bat an eyelid at ye coming with us, they'd heard crazier things to happen to Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Living on a ship with a man requires the same deal. Ye, or immortality as a sea creature."

"Giving up immortality! Absurd notion, darling! Who'd ask ye such a thing! Why can't ye have both Jacey? Ye followed us so far, ye can do that all the time fe a man who loves ye?" He hugged her protectively, indicative of his intentions to keep her as long as it could last between them.

She settled against him, knowing she'll never be whole if she doesn't agree. Her eyes closed instinctively, already imagining their next encounters, a comfort zone she could always go back to, mermaid or not. If there was a man out there for somebody like her, it was Jack. She just hoped he'd not spend too much time in ports. "Forever, Jack," she whispered, not letting on it was precisely her intention to follow him, whether she could let him know about it or not.

Suddenly she felt a shock of pleasure rock her body as he resumed his thrusts, content with her answer. With the question between them resolved as much as anything was sure in the world, the urge of release returned with a vengeance and made his movements erratic and rugged.

She clenched her tail around them, her fingernails dug into his back and her inner muscles tightened in an attempt to hang on. Pleasure hammered her body and she panicked for the furious pulses inside her not to cease. She'd not let go, not even after his last powerful push up that had him forced to collapse next to her and then she found that his gentle, but possessive hold was just as satisfying as the million years old dance they just practiced, if not more.

"Ahoy there!" They heard a muffled voice from above the water surface, roughly from the direction of the Pearl. Gibbs strained his eyes, but could not see a soul in the darkness of the depths from such a distance, "if ye two art done, we've got a navy ship upon us?"

Jack was still troubled by aftershocks when he looked at her reddened face, "well, never underestimate a former bos'n, eh? I think that counts as his blessings. But next time we have a quick fix maybe I should give yer father some extra portions of rum."

The End.


End file.
